


A Wildlife Documentary, But with More Mating than Hunting

by Caranx



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Asphyxiaphilia, Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Drinking, M/M, More to be added as it continues, Porn With Plot, clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7912123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caranx/pseuds/Caranx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamison Fawkes is ditched at a bar.<br/>Jamison Fawkes sets his sights on a big catch.<br/>Jamison Fawkes is a guy with a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Offers

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks, this is my first Overwatch fic. First fic in 4 years. Anyways, hope y'all enjoy. Comments are Greatly Appreciated (Capital G & A)  
> my twitter is @kophing_ if u wanna chat  
> my tumblr is kophing

D.Va and Lucio had ditched him not thirty minutes after they'd walked into the stinking place. Drinking place. Both labels true, as having about a hundred people crammed into one area, with an air conditioner set to 200 degrees and broil for forty minutes, didn't exactly brew the best of nasal flavors. Ah, well, he couldn't blame them. They could probably smell the pitiable desperation on him. A kind of nasal flavor known as "Jamison plans on getting fucked up. Read: Will need babysitting". The babysitting part made Jamie wince slightly. Truth hurts. All the more reason to indulge and do what he came here to do anyway. Self fulfilled prophecy. Friend fulfilled prophecy. Bartender fulfilled prophecy. 

He dozed at the counter and waited for his drink. He thought about whether or not people-watching would be enough for him tonight. He could always bump into a couple of people, spill some drinks from some hands, start something. A couple of big boy gulps and he places an empty glass back down. He doesn't remember getting the drink. Christ, it smelled like piss where he was sitting. Kind of made him worried about the state of the bathroom later on in the night, but knew by the time he'd need it, he'd be having enough trouble aiming his own piss while keeping his drink down. Too busy to take in the nasal flavor of a greasy club's three stall bathroom. He picked at the black under his nails while waiting for his glass to be refilled. 

What was he doing again? 

Hmm... 

He licked at his drink, this time too busy trying to take in what the clubbers looked like and trying to pick which poor sap he'd try swiping a wallet from. A passing thought said "Where are Lucio and D.Va?". A second, more well thought out passing thought said, "Curiosity killed the cat."

The cat being any hopes of making money tonight.  
Listen, if there was one law Junkrat abided to, as they were few and far between, it was the self enforced rule that he doesn't leave a club without a profit. Swiping wallets, selling duds, ammo, green cards, you name it, he's got it. He didn’t need mom (D.Va) and dad (Lucio) to come over and ruin his fun. He sighed and fondly remembered some of his favorite cons, glass still resting on a very satisfied smirk. He downed the rest of the drink and cracked his neck. 

Jamison was anything but stupid. To work his kind of occupation and not get caught for as long as he had is proof enough. Eh, the missing limbs were just a couple stumbles in the beginning. A craft isn’t perfect on the first go. People get mad when you sell’em crap for the price of gold. Hence, picking your prey was of the utmost importance. Gotta be able to spot the right kind of idiot. A giggle interrupted his thoughts as he imagined himself as a guest featured on some wildlife documentary.

His mind wandered from the squeaking of his stool as he twisted it side to side, to gaping at the impressive ‘stache of the guy sitting next to him (the guy was glaring at him and his squeaking chair, but boy, should he be glad that the squeaking wasn’t coming from Jamison’s lips or it would be twice as fast and twice as high), to looking for someone to sell some cheap shit to, to drinking his drink, to trying to figure out how many drinks he’s already had. 

The stool to his other side, the one not hosting the moustached man with a log lodged in his anus, groaned in just as much as pain as someone getting a log lodged in his anus. He giggled at the idea and could almost pretend that he didn’t feel the bar top shake over his own body’s shaking.  
No, his curious ass needed to look to his side and spot the biggest and meanest looking motherfucker he’s ever had the absolute pleasure of experiencing. The behemoth had dark glasses on and a black bandana around the lower part of his face. Jamison wouldn’t lie; the way his heart jumped to his throat at the idea of this guy robbing the place felt pretty nice. The guy made him feel pretty nice in general. D.Va and Lucio would have dragged him away by now, smelling the upcoming “problems”. 

Curiosity killed the cat, but Jamie would argue he had somewhat of a death wish when it came to men three times his size and three times more likely to punch his lights out than the next guy. What could he say? He had a type. The guy next to him looked like he’d snap his neck just for looking at him, and, coincidentally, that is exactly what Jamie decided to do at that moment. Christ, why couldn’t he stop looking at him. He’s sort of afraid that if he looks away the absolute myth of his dream man will be gone. Like a bigfoot sighting. Exactly like a bigfoot sighting. He thinks back to the wildlife documentary he’d be guest starring in. 

The mountain of a man barely cocked his head towards Jamie and the stool croaked under his weight. Jamie wouldn’t mind croaking under his weight either, in all honesty. 

“Got something to say?”

Jamie’s eyebrows raised, his lips cracked open for a moment, but then he shrugged and wobbled his head side to side.  
“Nah. Don’t think you’d be interested in what I have to offer.”

A quiet ensued that was only filled by the incessant beat of the music which was already a default of background noise for this place. It took him a solid minute to realise that the beast’s voice was damn hot too. Deep- so damn deep- and rumbled like a car at a stoplight itching to race. It sounded dry, crackled at the end, sounded like he needed to cough. Made Jamie’s lungs vibrate and seize and his fingers drum on the table a little faster. Delicate work, Jamison. Don’t fuck this up and get choked without your clothes off first. The lug was as quiet as a corpse. Jamie really needed to concentrate to get this to work, but he was horny and the drinks were already adding up to a warm and tipsy feeling. The guy didn’t even move. Didn’t drink his damn drink. Jamie wished the guy would punch him already or something. Anything is better than nothing.

God, he was sweating up a storm, felt drenched through his pants, shirt, socks, shoes, he felt like he was slipping and sliding off the damn leather seat. If he listened quietly, Jamie could hear the hunk (hulk...) pant. Christ, like an obese Saint Bernie. He supposed that was normal for a guy of his size, and for any big dog too. If he listened closer, he could hear the guy think. He didn’t say much, nothing at all actually, but his presence was constant, and overwhelming, and much louder without a voice. Was there anything about this man that didn’t turn Jamie on? 

Jamie stopped drinking, now folding the dampened napkin that was under his glass into a smaller and smaller square. It had been about thirty minutes since their interaction, not that Jamison was counting or anything. He didn’t really think about what he’d do when he got to the point where he wouldn’t be able to fold it smaller. A soggy little paper pea, which was, at one point, a square. 

“What’s offered.”

Jamie brought the glass to his lips and let the most mischievous of smiles stretch across them.

“Me.”


	2. The Party Continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New chapter. If you're reading this right now, excuse any typos. It's two am. I'll edit it in the morning.

‘Instantaneous regret’- this was the only description Jamie could find that fit his mood at the moment. 

The big guy had laughed, chuckled, fucking wheezed and shook his head side to side, like he just caught a toddler trying to walk in shoes 30 sizes too big. Complete and utter amusement; Bigfoot found it fucking hilarious, probably thought he was a kid. Jamie mentally dared the guy to try and get the bartender’s attention to card him. 

Jamie grit his teeth, hunching over the table. He spun the glass in his hand, a little too hard, the booze was spilling over the edge on some twirls. 

“Ha, fucking, ha”, he seethed, not even caring if he pissed the guy off, because he was pissed, and his pissed-offedness always trumped his welfare. Screw future him. He’d deal with any broken bones in the morning. 

His head was already tucked down and hidden from sight, mid grieving his dignity, when the wad of cash was tossed into his lap. Christ, it was thick too. Drug money? 

Big guy stood up, the bar top shaking again when he used it to push himself off; the stool practically sighed. Jamie, for the first time in his life, froze up staring at the wad of cash. Never in his life had he hesitated to grab a dollar, a coin off the ground, a wallet from a woman too busy pushing a stroller. No, he wasn’t scared- he was just shocked. A small voice of reason on his shoulder, that he liked to imagine looked like a miniature version of himself, said “At first you’re mad he said no, now you’re surprised?”-He grabbed the money and tucked it into his cargo pants’ pocket- confidence issues, he supposed. 

It wasn’t hard to follow him through the crowd. He was like a beacon, his grey ponytail reflected all the colors of the neon lights pretty easily. Looked soft too. Jamie had trouble imagining him combing his hair and tying it up. The mental block bothered him. Christ, OK, he needed to concentrate on walking, he’d tripped almost twice already. 

Men’s sign on the wall and he knew where they were headed. He knew he’d somehow find his way in here at some point that night. Mmm, and all the nasal flavor, just as potent as he remembered it. At least the stalls were empty. He didn’t remember the guy moving behind him, and he admittedly jumped a little when he felt his belly brush Jamie’s back. He watched the shadows on the ground as he waddled towards an empty stall, the pressure on his back moving him forward. 

Click went the lock, which were more for mental peace than actual practical use. Someone could breathe on the door and it would swing open, lock or not. A giggle escaped his lips when a hand grabbed his shoulder and pushed his face up against the wall. A phone number was written in Sharpie next to his nose, and his eyes hurt trying to make each number out.

Suddenly, he was flipped over and pushed down the wall to his knees. Ah, a club stall classic. Momentarily, he felt disappointed that this murderous looking individual, so full of prospects, murderous or not (hopefully murderous) would choose such a boring route. Jamie felt like you could definitely judge a book by its cover. 

Fingers grabbed onto his hair and pulled. Rough. ‘Move it’, it said. Ok, maybe Jamie was wrong about the boring part; You couldn’t judge a book by its first page. He lifted his hands and began undoing the belt. Interesting design: a license plate.

“Like cars or something?” Silence. “I dabble. Combustion, though, that shit gets me going.” He giggled again, pulling down the zipper and tugging down the rough denim as far as he could, “Pyrotechnics is my main game though-”, the hand tightened its grip and pulled. 

Jamie huffed, “Ya know, patience is a virtue-”  
“Mine’s wearin' thin”

Fuck, he sounded pissed. Fuck. That was kind of hot. He couldn’t help but grin when he finally got his dick out. He felt like laughing and crying and calling his mom to say his final goodbyes because, lord knew, he was going to figure out some way to die by this cock. The thing was almost as big as his arm and thick as a bat.

“You should submit this to Guinness, mate-”

The hand pulled toward the crotch, and his cheek pressed up against the damp flesh. Duty called. He mouthed at the area closest to him, the base. The guy held on to him damn tight, moved him like it was nothing, even when Jamie struggled to move his head on his own. Jesus, he knew what he was doing. Didn’t need to be walked through it. The hand pulled his head away, rubbing his mouth along the underside of his dick, one bump, two bump, three bump, four, and Jamie had to admit, piercings were anything but a bore. Black bars nestled in the skin underneath, in a neat little row. The hand in his hair loosened, slightly, and Jamie dove in, lips wrapping around each bar and sucking it, licking at the hot skin pulled taught over metal. He moved up, using a hand to pull back the foreskin. The hand’s grip returned and pushed his open mouth down onto cock. He imagines that he heard a sigh come from above him. 

He wouldn’t lie, his jaw hurt already. The guy seemed to have plans to have him take in the whole thing. On one side, Jamie really, really wanted to know how much he could take from someone as big as this. Somewhat of a personal achievement. Bragging fodder. On the other hand, he didn’t feel like seeing his booze again. That is, if he choked. He wouldn’t choke. Would he? Nah.

At this point, he was getting plain face-fucked. Flattening his tongue and stretching his mouth open to maximum capacity was as much as he could do to help the situation. And breathe. Breathing helped. His pants felt tight but touching himself didn’t feel right. Unspoken pressure from the big guy up above, most likely. No, not God. The other one. The one that wasn't saying a god damn thing but pant.

Jamie took in a casual update of his body while he waited for his new client to get off. His lips stung where dryness turned into cracks that ripped from overstretching, and were now being rubbed (quite vigorously). His dick burned and his fingers were ripping new holes into his pants. Feeling the head get closer and closer to the back of his throat with each thrust was making him shiver. Anticipation? Hunger? Performance anxiety? The hand slowly pushed his face in again, felt him slowly press against the back of his throat. He choked when he was pulled off, drool slipping down his numb lips. In he goes again. This time, he feels hair tickle the tip of his nose, and he ranks sneezing on this guy’s dick in the top three things that might get him killed tonight. He definitely tastes the precum. It took a couple more bashes to the back of his neck to get the him off. He spits it into the toilet bowl a foot away from his head and licks his lips. Not too bad. His lips still hurt and he was pretty sure he might be the first person to get motion sickness from giving head. Or from being drunk.  
He doesn’t want the party to end. He’s still got his own interests in mind, mind you.  
His pants were untouched.  
His phone lacked a certain phone number.

He felt dizzy and hardly recognized the feeling of another weight falling into his lap. 

Wad #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:3c It continues! God, I love dialogue! Next chapter will have more fun stuff in it, dialogue, gamez, sex, ... you know.... good things. See ya then!  
> my twitter is @kophing_ chat me up my dude  
> my tumblr is kophing


	3. Yeah Sounds Kind of Bad, Doesn't It...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wildlife documentary continues. Hunters can be sneaky...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jamie's playing with fire again.  
> Call d.va and lucio.

It’s when Jamie finally climbed behind the guy that he realized he didn’t even know his name. He had a pretty sweet ride, though.

“Say, wha’s your name anyway,”  
The guy paused in putting his helmet on, “You don’t need it.”  
“Roight… Roight,” Made sense, “M’ names Jamie. Jamison.”  
“Didn’t ask.”  
He continued on, hoping to get his new best friend (insert batting of eyelashes here) to warm up to him.  
“‘Junkrat’ too, guess I really like the letter J. Though, only time I use tha’ name is when I-”  
“‘Jackass’”  
“Damn funny, arent’cha! Fuck you.”  
He chuckled low and dark and Jamie fucking vibrated along with him. He shook the whole damn bike when he laughed. He shook up Jamie’s heart too. He adjusted the lumps in his pants, two bundles of thick cash and a relatively less thick dick, and wrapped his arms around his very generous client. The bike roared to life, but Jamie’s middle name is Persistent.  
“Fine, fine. I gotcha, probably gotta keep your name under wraps for your job. Speaking of which, what puts food on the table?”  
Silence  
“I know you can hear me,” Jamie stood up on his knees on the back of the bike seat, trying to get as close to his ears as possible. Like climbing Mount-Fucking-Everest, it was.  
“As I was saying! Who ya work for?”, screamed in his ear. The mystery was kinda hot, but he didn’t want to get involved in any gang shit. He was loaded.  
No reply.  
“What do you do?”  
“You.”  
He felt like slapping the mongrel silly, but that’d probably get his good hand torn off too. He dropped to sit back down.  
Jamie tried to give him the cold shoulder for as long as he could, but he forgot about it faster than he intended, returning back to the usual program of constant chatter. Commenting on how others were driving, how his driver was driving, asking what time it was. 

Motel 6. Classy. 

The bike rolled into one of the parking spaces, gravel crackling softly underneath. Would it be an upper floor or lower floor room. He took a bet on a lower room.  
The key was in his hand already. It looked comically small between his fingers. He lifted his head and stared at Jamie for a moment before unlocking the door. Or at least Jamie thought he stared. Hard to tell when it's 1 am and he's wearing sunglasses. Oh, he suddenly remembered, he won his own bet; Lower floor. Somehow it wasn't a satisfying win. The door opened and was pushed aside. Jamie wanted to watch him go in first, to see if he'd have to duck his head to fit in the doorway, but he held the door open for Jamie. Walking by him felt like walking by mall security with your pockets full of swiped perfumes. It was probably the glasses.  


Pitch black. He couldn't see where he was walking. 

A giggle escaped him when a hot hand wrapped around his waist.

“Ticklish?” He hardly recognized it as a word at first, right against his ear, but muffled by the bandana, so low that could have just been a grunt. He giggled again, this one ending in a sigh when fingers wrapped around his neck. His hand was too big to just hold his neck, some fingers spread down his trapezius too. He wondered if the guy was tempted to snap his neck like this. Jamie wondered how many other people he’s held like this, also imagining snapping their necks. Had he snapped their necks? Wishful thinking. 

“Only in some places. Wouldn’t ya like to know where,” another hand moved down his side, rolling up his shirt, “Nah, I’ll letcha figure it out”

A rumbling chuckle rocked the bed - “I’m gonna make you squeal”, growled into his ear with a hot puff of air. The bandana was off now. Christ, what he’d give to turn around and see his face. His knees hit the recognizable edge of a bed and he toppled into it. He rolled onto his back and a hand pressed against his chest, pulling his shirt over his head. He gasped when rough pads pinched and pulled his nipples. 

Hungry, was the only way he could describe the mouth that attacked his clavicle. The kisses stopped and heavy breaths against his skin became his only sense of where the other’s head was. Up from his collarbone, over his neck, along his jaw. He hovered over Jamie’s lips, hot air ghosting along his popped lips, Jamie panting back into this stranger’s mouth. Until he dove in. The massive hands on his chest tightened and moved down, clamping onto his waist. They opened their mouths together, teeth clacking, tongues darting in and out. It was messy, but in way that had Jamie’s chest arching up just to rub just skin against the other’s.  
He separated. Took off his own clothes. Jamie felt awkward and bare for a moment. Now wasn’t the time for self consciousness. Hands returned to his waist, undoing the button on his pants and pulling them off. A hand cupped him through his underwear and he gasped. The fingers on his hip dug in painfully and he tried to flinch away. A stubbled cheek pressed against his own. Sensations sparked in all corners of his body. The hand that pulled him out of his underwear was too gentle to belong to the image that walked into the room with him ten minutes earlier. 

His breath hitched when he was pulled to sit in the other man’s lap and felt another dick rub against his. He could feel the fucking bars on its underside and he bucked. The metal rods felt even better sliding back and forth against him than they did in his mouth. Arguable. They felt pretty damn good then too. The memory only made him harder. 

“Fuck-”, was all he managed to choke out when an oversized hand wrapped around both of them. They were squeezed together, too firmly, and god, he could swear that he’d have imprints of those bars for weeks on his own dick after this. It burned when he started pulling his hand up and over, until cold liquid was poured over the mass of overheated flesh. Oozed inbetween the fingers holding them tightly together, warmed almost instantly from the friction. 

All Jamie could do was curse and gape and gasp like a damn fish on land. And the guy above said nothing. Jamie tried to not focus on his silence, it felt too intimate for a first time meeting. The kisses that were wild and insatiate from before had calmed drastically. While a calloused hand practically ripped their dicks off below their waists, a pair of plump lips left gentle open-mouthed kisses down his jaw and on his lips. Jamie didn’t have the brainpower left to focus on following the soft lips and reciprocating. He just sat there, sometimes letting his hips jump up into the hand, hands wrapped around the guy’s neck. 

He wanted to say the gentleness was awkward. That it contrasted too much with what was happening down below. But he couldn’t. It was a fucking dream come true. Literally a dream of fucking come true. His raggedy and bitten nails dug into soft and wide shoulders and he rolled his hips into the now still hand. He fucked into the clasped hand, fucked against the metal rods running through the monster cock on a monster guy that made Jamie’s dick jump just from thinking about him. Just from thinking about how all his fantasies had come together and culminated into one man that paid him in two giant bundles of cash to sit here on his lap and make his dreams come true. Jamie groaned out a broken “shit” when he came, voice cracking midway like he was crying, God knew he felt like crying after something like that, and arched up, head falling back, letting the lips travel down his jaw to his neck. A couple more strokes and his client came with a grunt that sounded eerily like “Jamie”. He was quickly pushed off the man’s lap. He heard him wipe his hand on the side of the bed as he lay boneless.

Jamie reached over and pulled the chain on the bedside lamp. The sudden brightness made his head ache horribly. 

“You’re no whore, are you.” The guy said it with a sigh, as if the both of them didn’t know it since he first sat on that stool.  
“Momma always told me,” He wiped fake tears from his eyes, “‘Jamie, you can be anything if you try hard enough’,” and sniffled a sniff that turned into a snort and a squawk when his bare chest was smacked with a massive open hand.  
“Shut up.”  
His chest tingled from the slap but he swore he could feel a tingling somewhere deeper inside too. Jamie’s eyes adjusted to the brightness and focused in on a man with a prominent square jaw, patchy grey and black stubble, and the king of all resting bitch faces. A faded circular scar sat on his right cheek and Jamie took a couple moments to try and guess what created it.

“Ya ever gonna tell me where you get this kind of moolah from? Only a couple jobs I know of have this kinda paycheck. And, with all respect to your size, you look like a damn good fit for ‘em.”  
Silence.  
“Come on, come onnn,”  
“Already did that twice on you tonight. Enough.”  
“I’m fucking serious, mate, I don’t mess with drugs and shite like that.”  
“Babysitter.”  
“Come off it.”  
“Poaching”  
“What, golden Rhinos?”  
The room turned a cold that wasn’t felt on your skin, and Jamie shivered. He pretended that he doesn't feel his cock trying to harden again.  
“For the right price, I’ll poach anything.”  
“...Ya poach things on two legs often?”  
He grinned. Jamie felt like getting out of the bed.

“S’Not uncommon.”

No, he realized now that drugs and gangs were the least of his worries.

Suddenly, Jamie remembered every con he’d ever pulled.  
Suddenly, he remembered how many people he’d swindled.  
Some with enough cash to hire a good gun. 

Giant, sausage fingers danced up his arm, like a parent’s hand pretending to be a spider on a child’s arm. The man hummed a tune Jamie couldn’t recognize. Goosebumps raised up wherever the fingers grazed. A most likely blood stained hand wrapped around his neck. Funny how this was the third time tonight the same fingers firmly held his scrawny throat, but it produced a much much different feeling. Funny how it got harder to breathe, not from the fingers, but from the realization of the experience of the hand on his neck. He felt incredibly small. Prayed that he could melt through the creaky spring mattress. Just at least to hide the hard on he really shouldn't be getting at the moment.

He swallowed but his mouth felt dry and his adam’s apple strained under a rough palm.

“Lookin’ a little under the weather all of a sudden…” 

A cold sweat and trouble breathing, symptoms of both the common cold and bloodcurdling fear. He knew his face was dead pale. Christ, he couldn’t answer. He was on the verge of damn near pissing himself. Thick lips pressed gently to his temple and a thumb rubbed circles into a particularly tense tendon on his neck. Peppered kisses down his face, slow and so soft that he barely feels them.  
“Don’t have to be afraid,” he felt the lips on his cheek pull up into what could only be a smile. That only made his heart pound faster, pump his blood so fast his fingers tingled. Could he feel Jamie’s blood rushing under his fingers? Jamie didn’t want to admit where the blood was rushing to.

The hand pulled off and an arm slipped itself under his shoulders. Jamie felt it; the guy relaxed because the cat was out of the bag. He only wondered which guy he pissed off enough to go as far as to take a hit out on him.

“How much did they pay you?”  
“Check your pockets.” Christ, that was all kinds of fucked up. And only two bundles?!  
“When did you plan on doing it”  
“After the bathroom, by the bike.”  
“Why haven’t ya done it yet.”  
“Don’t know.”  
“Will ya?”  
He heard the crickets chirping under the nasty little nightstand next to him.  
“Don’t know.”

His murderous mood seemed to have passed. Could he call it a mood? Was it a constant state that he just kept subdued? He knew nothing about this guy. Why was he still turned on by this whole damn situation.  
Jamie paused. There had to be some reason he wasn’t dead in a ditch yet. The guy had half a million chances to end him in the last thirty minutes only. And this guy didn’t look the type to play with his prey.

“...Do ya like me?”  
The guy chuckled and sighed. The arm under Jamie jostled his head around.

“Do you really want me to like you?”

For once in his life, Jamie was speechless.

Jamie covered his eyes with a hand,  
“‘Yeah’, sounds pretty bad, don’t it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHATS IT CALLED WHEN YOURE INTO HAVING THE LIFE CHOKED OUT OF YOU. ASKING FOR A FRIEND.  
> hope yall enjoyed. next chapter coming soon.
> 
> my twitter is @kophing_ chat me up my dude  
> my tumblr is kophing


	4. You Look Good and I Can't Do It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They chat it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally attached to chapter 3 but i felt like it worked better on its own.

\-------------

“Are you stupid?”  
“Are you stupid? You could’ve wrung my neck like a wet paper towel hours ago. What’s keepin’ you.”  
He seemed to be thinking of a way to word his reply.  
“You… Looked like you’d be more fun breathing.”  
“So you do it for fun?”  
The guy shrugged.  
“What if I start boring you?”  
He scratched at the grey stubble on his cheeks  
“Better make sure you don’t.”

They went quiet again.

Jamie’s voice was barely a whisper.  
“I made it so easy for you. Practically threw myself at you.”  
The guy grunted in acknowledgement.  
“That’s why you laughed.”  
Another grunt.  
“Must’ve been funny as fuck.”  
No grunt this time.  
“...What are my chances of ever knowing your name.”  
“You get turned on from almost dying” Solid subject change.  
“See, when ya say it like that, it sounds pretty fucked up.”  
He looked at Jamie and raised an eyebrow.  
“It’s not that fucked up! There’s worse!”  
“Sure. There’s getting turned on from inciting fear.”  
This time it was Jamie’s turn to raise an eyebrow  
“Really? Really, really?”  
No grunt, just staring at the ceiling fan.

“Why’d you keep the lights off?”  
“Thought it’d be easier”  
Jamie laughed, “You’re kinda sucking at this whole murdering me, thing, mate. I can teach ya, give ya lessons. Free of charge.”  
“You… look good.”

Jamie, sat up, his one flesh hand coming up to cover his chest. He didn’t just say that.  
“Never knew my devilishly good looks would save my hide one day.”  
“Nothing’s set in stone”  
“No balls.”  
The hitman gave him a look daring him to say another word and huge knuckles turned white in tight fists.  
“Joking! Joking! It was a joke! Don’t worry about it!” Jamie’s heart thumped again. 

“What’s your name?”  
Silence.  
“C’mon. Just give me anything."  
A grunt. Progress.  
"What is it? Here lemme guess. Uh, Rico? Little Timmy? George? Josiah? Mary? Peter? Be-”  
“Mako.”  
“...Mako.”

‘Mako’ brought his hand up and ran it down Jamie’s chest, fingers slowly traveling over pec, and each ab, until they stopped at sparse blond hair.  
"Mako..."  
The hand stilled for a moment before lifting off. Mako. He liked that name. Mako turned away.  
“You look good.”  
Why did those three simple words make Jamie's day. Week. Month.  
“Christ, mate, you gotta stop sayin’ that or I’m really gonna lose it…”

A hand pulled his arm until he fell back onto the pillows. 

Jamie pulled the chain on the lamp next to the bed. 

He thought about whether or not he’d wake up tomorrow morning. 

But for now he’d soak in the time he had, laying in bed waiting to go to sleep, in a Motel 6, after being fucked senseless by a guy who paid him to be his fun for the night, paid with money that was meant to pay for a bullet in his skull, shot by a guy named Mako who couldn't pull the trigger and panted like a damn obese Saint Bernie even in his sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS SO HARD WRITING A MAKO THAT SHOWS EMOTION THAT ISNT MURDEROUS WITHOUT IT FEELING OUT OF CHARACTER...AND I MADE HIM TALK TOO MUCH. i like dialogue a lot. I feel like im turning him into a softie. like. man. hes a hardened killer. but he finally meets someone he doesnt really wanna kill. cuz he thinks hes kinda sexy/sorta entertaining. you get me? more worth to him alive. i dont know why im writing in here, trying to explain my bad hog and rat, its 1 am again. goodnight hope yall like it so far. lemme know what u wanna see/any corrections to the characters. 
> 
> idk if therell be another chapter...
> 
> my twitter is @kophing_  
> my tumblr is kophing


	5. Let's Go Clubbing (Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie misses the big lug

That was weeks ago. His dreams were filled with a one night stand. It salted his wounds in a way, his own mind not letting him let go of that one night. “It was just a fling,” he had told Lucio and D. Va while eating Ihop the morning after. He had called them asking for a ride using the room’s phone. Next to the phone was a page ripped from a notepad that came with the hotel. A drawing of what looked like chocolate chip cookies. He had folded the drawing and put it in his pocket. Lucio and D.Va had both stopped eating, Lucio frozen with a fork halfway to his mouth. “Jamie, this is the shittiest joke you’ve ever told”, D.Va murmured into her strawberry shake  
“Damnit, mate, I ain’t laughing! I’m pissed! No number no nothing, just this.” He unfolded the drawing and placed it on the table.   
“Creepy. Probably means something.” The two friends studied the paper, turning it upside down.  
Lucio pointed to one of the many black dots on the circles drawn, “Look like bullet holes”  
“Lucio!” D.Va snatched the paper and folded it back up, sliding it to Jamie.   
“It’s not bullet holes. He wasn’t gonna kill me.”  
They stared at him.  
“He changed his mind! He didn’t do it!”  
“Jamie, you said yourself, he was going to strangle you.”  
“Well, listen now, that’s uh. Complicated. Different context.”  
“What other context could there be to strangling you?!”  
Jamie ducked down and leaned in, “Just, it might have been the slightest bit hot. Just. Nothing strange, just the smallest amount of sexy”  
Lucio put his head in his hands. D.Va choked on her smoothie and covered her nose with a napkin, where it had begun leaking out. Lucio raised his head suddenly and seemed to be thinking of something.  
“What.”  
“Jamie. What happened to the money.”  
Jamie’s hands fell to his pants.  
“It’s here”  
“What?!” D.Va shushed Lucio after having coughed up half her drink.  
“It’s all here”  
“How much?!”  
“I never counted.” He hadn’t even noticed they were still in his pockets anyway.  
“Fuck, we can’t count it here either. 

They had grabbed the folded drawing and left. Counted the money in Jamie’s apartment. $10k each. $20k.   
“Jesus, Jamie, who exactly are you selling to.”  
“Anyone stupid enough to buy.”

That was weeks ago. No head or hair of Mako since then. His subconscious had a field day replaying the moments of that night. Sometimes they ended in different ways. Sometimes the light is on when they’re in the motel room. Sometimes when he wakes up the next morning, Mako is still there. Sometimes he jolts awake from Mako squeezing too hard, with purpose, finishing the job. 

“What if you see him again?”, D.va asked, flipping through one sweater and picking up another, this one a maroon color. She held it up against Jamie.  
“Don’t think I’ll get that lucky”  
“Why not? We can just go back to the club! Oh, stop looking so damn grumpy. It’s super weird.”, she reached out and pinched one of his cheeks. He leaned back and slapped her hand away.  
“He won’t be there”  
“I’ll bet you we’ll see him.”  
Jamie rolled his eyes, “Why are ya suddenly pro-me and my ex-murderer? When I first told ya you had 911 dialed up before I even finished the first sentence.”  
“Jamie, he literally tried to kill you.”  
“‘Cause I sell junk! Ain’t the first time someone’s had it out for me”, he shakes his bright metal arm in her general direction  
“Keep your voice down. Don’t want another one of your customers hearing you and coming over and beating us both up” He stuck his tongue out at her and she stuck out hers in turn.  
“What’s he look like anyway. You never told us.”  
Jamie shrugged and sifted through a rack of shirts from the aisle opposite of her.  
“Y’know. He’s m’ type.”  
“Oh. Fantastic.”  
“To a T”  
“Specifics, Jamie.”  
He sighed, “Just the biggest motherfucker ya’ve ever met.”  
“Bigger than you?”  
“Probably eats one of me fer breakfast”  
D.Va snickered, “You probably wish he did” He threw a shirt and hanger at her.  
“Yeah, well, there’s tons of big guys out there. What else.”  
“Grey hair. Silver?”  
“Jesus, Jamie… How old are the guys you’re going after.”  
“He wasn’t old! Not that old. Y’know, aged like fine wine.”  
“He sounds like more of a beer kind of guy.”  
“Scruffy lookin’ ‘round the face, I guess. He had it covered most of the night. He has a bike.”  
D.Va brings her hands up and imitates riding a bicycle. “Ching, ching”, she says, and bends her fingers like she’s ringing it’s invisible bell.  
He snorts.   
“Wore sunglasses too. I dunno. It’s hard to describe’m. You’ll know it when you see him.”  
“Really?”  
“He’ll scare ya shitless.”  
“Man, you really know how to pick ‘em, Jamie.”  
He sniffed and made a show of walking away to the register.  
On their way out to the parking lot, D.Va texted away. He didn’t particularly trust the smug look she had on her face when she finished.

“Let’s go pick up Lucio”  
“He need somethin’?”  
“We’re gonna go back to the club tonight! I know you want to. Come on, Jamie”  
He groaned, but turned to drive towards the DJ’s house anyway.  
“I knew you couldn’t resist.”  
“Not funny”  
“I’m not laughing! It’s sort of cute.” She giggled and Jamie knew that if he wasn’t in control of a car, she’d be pinching his cheek again. There was nothing to pinch at anyway. What was she doing with her hand. Tugging at skin and bone.   
Lucio was waiting outside his own apartment, but unlike Jamie’s, it was a penthouse in the middle of the city. The sun was setting.  
“Hey!”, D.Va stuck her head out of the window.  
“Heard we were going to go out hunting. I can join in, right?”, Lucio was already getting into the car.  
“So, tonight’s catch,” D.Va explained, turning in her seat to grin at Lucio, “We’re looking for a big one”  
“Oh yeah? How big?”  
“At least seven feet long.”  
“A big boy. Approximate weight?”  
“Teenage elephant.”  
“Anything else?”  
“Grey fur, but not aged.”  
“Ew, D.Va, too far. He isn’t furry. Jamie, he isn’t furry right?”  
Jamie shrugged noncommittally.   
“Ewww…”, Lucio made a gagging noise, “Is he aggro?”  
Jamie shrugged noncommittally.   
D.Va covered her face with both hands and sighed.

A police blip behind them.   
“Crap.”  
“Told ya someone would notice your car was missing the side mirrors”  
“Took long enough”  
Jamie pulled over and rolled down his window.  
“Jamie.”  
“What”  
“Look outside”  
“Wait don’t”  
“What?!”  
“Shut up! Shh!”   
The only way he could look outside was if he stuck his head out the window. Lucio’s big dumb head was blocking the view from the rear-

“Do you know why I pulled you over?”  
Jamie’s head whipped around so fast he thought his neck would snap. He couldn’t say a word. Gun to his head and nothing would come out. The same voice from his dreams.  
He gaped.  
"N..No. Sir"  
"Right brake light is down" A huge finger tapped at where his side mirror should be. "No mirrors."   
"I'll get'em fixed. I promise."   
He wrote on a pad and handed the slip to him. Jamie pretended that his hands didn't shake when he took the piece of paper from him.

"Don't know why I keep letting you go loose" 

Jamie could only open and close his mouth. 

The police bike drove off but Jamie sat parked, the car dead silent.  
"I don't think I've ever seen you so quiet in my whole life."

Jamie clutched at the little slip of paper in his hand. It was crumpled in his fist; he had tightened his fist too much during the whole... interaction.   
He steeled himself and looked at the wad of paper in his hand.   
From a lone corner peeking out, he spotted a single digit.   
9.  
"You weren't joking. He's giant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey what better way to look less sus as a hitman than to be a cop day to day


	6. Destination: Idiot Pit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie needs help frm Mako. Thats about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is short, I'm moving right now so I don't have much time to write...

Lucio was standing close enough that he could feel his breath on his shoulder. He wasn’t a pussy, he just wasn’t sure how to talk. Forgot.  
“You gonna type something or do I have to do it for you”  
Jamie elbowed him, “Jus’ thinkin. Don’t wanna make a complete dingus of myself in the first message”  
D.Va whispered in his ear, “Usually people start off with ‘Hey’”  
“Shove off.” D.Va giggled and snatched the cellphone from him. She dove off the bed, kicking off the covers over Jamie.  
“WHOA, WHOA, WHOA!”  
She darted off into the bathroom. By the time he got to the door, he heard the lock click.  
“Hana, if you say anythin’ I’ll! I’ll! I can’t think right now just give me the damn phone!”  
He heard his text message notification go off on the other side of the door.  
“HANA! DO NOT!”  
“He’s talking f-o-r-e-v-e-r to reply”  
He jangled the doorknob for a solid minute before beginning to look for something to pick the lock with. Halfway done with picking the door it slammed open into his face and his phone was dropped back into his lap.  
“He’s soooo boring.”  
Jamie was too busy with damage control. Thankfully nothing too abnormal was said. Just general how-do-you-do’s.  
His phone went off again and he dropped it. Thank god he was sitting. He couldn’t deal with another broken screen right now. 

-Didn’t give you my number for small talk.

He’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t sink.

-y then  
-Heard some rumors about a team finally getting a warrant through to check a “Jamison Fawkes” for firearm sales without a permit and illegal weapons manufacturing.  
-when  
-Tomorrow.

“Crap”  
“What happened?” Lucio was flipping through an old CD album on his bed.  
He couldn’t ask them to help him move all his shit out. Only assholes dragged their friends into illegal drama.  
“Nuthin’”  
It wasn’t a big deal anyway. No issue at all. He just needed to transport a couple crates of ammunition and clips. And then empty out his stash of completed products in the closet wall. And then take out the ‘nades from under the wardrobe floorboard. Ah, shit. 

His fingers twitched over the phone buttons.  
-u free today  
-You’re kidding me.  
-not like i have a lot of options here  
-You’re inviting a cop to come over to your house to help hide your contraband  
-u aint a snitch  
-You kind of cut out the snitch middle man here. You just admitted to having all of it.  
Jamie slapped himself in the face.  
-listen  
-I have all the information I need.  
-mako come on.  
-Begging?  
-u asking me to beg?  
-Would you?  
-wat r the chances of success 

Jamie sat there for 5 minutes with his phone in his hands, sitting on the floor next to his bathroom door, rubbing a red nose, waiting for any sign of a reply. Any hope. He dug himself into a pit. An idiot pit. This cop had more blackmail fuel than Jamie had after reading Hana’s diary. He got his ass beat, but he did get a whole night of free drinks, fully covered by his favorite live streamer. 

-Midnight.  
-u need my add?  
-Already have it.  
-creep  
-Your customer and my ex-employer gave me some background information.  
-....creep  
Jamie reread the message.  
-wat’d he tell you  
-Wouldn’t you like to know.  
-dick  
-Save the begging for tonight.

“Jesus, Jamie, stop making those faces. It’s so weird.” Jamie looked up to see two phones held up, camera’s obviously rolling.  
“So weird”, Lucio echoed, zooming in with his fingers.  
Jamie held up a middle finger in front of his face.  
Why couldn't he speak to him. Why did he freeze up like a stupid middle schooler. Why couldn't he wait for midnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be Contraband Fun Times at Casa Del Jamison  
> Kinks will debut :p  
> my twitter is @kophing_  
> my tumblr is kophing


	7. Grand Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako comes over!!

Pacing back and forth, back and forth.   
If he walked anywhere other than across his bedroom, he could have swept the whole house with his socks just from running around frantically. His neck hurt from craning up to check the time every 15 seconds. 11:50. 11:55. 11:56. 11:56. 11:56. Ok, enough of that. It felt like time had stopped and it sort of freaked him out. Lucio and Hana had left two hours ago after eating all the food in his pantry (Read: his chips). He reminded himself to buy more but knew he’d forget it all by 11:57. 

11:58. 11:58. Halfway to 11:59.  
A booming knock at the door, shook him out of staring at the clock. Shit, what was he wearing? He pulled on the hem of his basketball shorts to check up on his underwear. Not bad. Could be worse. Another knock, still patient. One moment running over to the door, next moment the world went sideways when his socks slid on hardwood and flipped him onto his shoulder. No time for damage assessment, he opened the front door with a tad more speed than necessary. 

And then here he was. All 7 feet of him. Fist midair, midnight but he still kept his sunglasses on, with a baseball cap and bowling shirt. 

“Well, officer? Where’s your warrant?” Jamie snickered and leaned at the doorway.  
He sighed, “I can leave right now.”  
Jamie moved to the side to let him pass, “I was kinda lookin’ forward ta your uniform.”  
“Thought it makes you nervous”  
“It sure does.”  
Mako hummed thoughtfully and looked him up and down. Like laser eyes, Jamie thought, his skin warming. Christ, he probably looked like a damn flamingo right now.   
Mako stood in his bedroom, thumbs hooked in his jeans pockets, studying the items on the shelves and various posters.   
Shit, Jamie forgot what he was here for in the first place.   
“Th’ stuff’s over here,” He muttered, and led the way over to his painfully small closet. Painfully small because it was purposefully half covered. . He pulled at the wooden panels on one of the side wall, tearing it off in one clean chunk. Behind it lay his motherload. What was supposed to be his walk in closet. Living on the floor level of his apartment meant he could hide all his goods under the floorboards too. He pried off several floorboards that were missing their nails. His pride and joy. 149 modified firearms, 13 crates of ammo, 10 suitcases of homemade ‘nades. Several customized weapons, requests from his regulars.  
“Ta-da!”, he posed near the hole in the wall.   
Mako said nothing but shook his head and began covering the crates with baby blankets.   
Why did he own baby blankets.   
…  
Food for thought. 

Mako carried two crates at a time, one on each shoulder. Jamie was well formed, or at least when it came to muscle form, and was well above the average in tone, but could only carry one at a time, and struggled with getting a grip on it. Big guy might as well be carrying two tangerines on his shoulders, he didn’t even break a sweat. 

They carried the baby blanketed boxes to Jamie’s van outside, dumped them into the trunk. A couple trips, but they were quiet enough to avoid attention from any other people in his complex. Jamie left to park the van a couple blocks away, leaving Mako to fill the gaps in his closet with some of his old school textbooks, just in case they decided to tear down the wall there. He came back home just in time to patch up the wall again, hammering in the thin composite panel back into place. 

Jamie gasped when thick hands wrapped around his waist, almost completely reaching around him. He shivered and leaned back into a protruding belly and lips that pressed into his shoulder blade. 

“Been waitin’ so long for this” was muttered against his skin, and the blond couldn’t help but shudder at the hands traveling up to rub at his chest.  
He didn’t noticed the hushed “please”’s that left his lips on their own accord. He turned around and let himself be pushed up against the wall. A framed photograph got pushed by his head and fell. He already forgot whether or not the glass shattered as the pair of hands wrapped around his ass lifted him off the ground. He wrapped his legs as best as he could around the huge hips crushing him into the plaster.

“Let’s make a hole in the wall,” Jamie panted out, head falling back

A wheezing laugh turned into a growl and the pressure on his body increased tenfold. He grinned; he always felt breathless around him, for an abundance of reasons. Being physically crushed against a wall wasn’t too bad of a situation.  
His cock felt smashed by rough denim and sometimes the metal edge of a belt. It burned and his eyes stung, but he couldn’t resist grinding back up. 

Mako put him down momentarily to pull Jamie’s shorts down, underwear successfully ignored and tugged down with the shorts as well. He heard the click of a belt buckle slipping loose and swallowed the saliva building up in his mouth. Plastic being ripped open. He imagined the difficulty of getting the rubber over the piercings. The sound of a bottle being clicked open, then closed, and he was lifted back into ugly wallpaper. He thanked past him for the tank he decided to wear, saving his poor back from painful sweaty-skin-on-wall friction. Rough and warm hands kneaded his nonexistent cheeks. A wet finger ran along his pucker and he gasped. The “please”’s kept pouring from his lips. The finger barely breached him before pulling back. His hole twitched, and his fingers impatiently grabbed at thick shoulders. The finger easily slipped in to the knuckle and slipped back out with a wet pop. Completely in and out and it was so quiet all he could hear was the resonant popping. Another finger joined the second, the tight ring burning, trying to accommodate the oversized fingers. The curved and scissored, hardly moving out of place. Jamie ground down on the fingers, earning a heavy breath on his shoulder and teeth pulling at his ear. 

A high pitched fuck was whispered and he instinctively flinched away from the third finger. Scarred lips pressed onto his own and a thick tongue came out to play. Mako was silent as always, besides one or two escapee groans. Jamie grabbed at the huge neck and found strands of grey hair that had come loose from the ponytail hidden under the cap. He pushed the hat off and let it tumble down to the floor. The soft hair felt hundreds of times better than the cheap fabric that had covered it. 

The fingers slowly eased out and he groaned at the way his hole struggled to close. Sweat made the thin fabric on his chest cling uncomfortably and he couldn’t tell who was producing the stinging smell of sweat though it was most likely both of them. He took pride in the fact that at least Mako was finally sweating. Carrying 149 modified firearms, 13 crates of ammo, 10 suitcases of homemade ‘nades and several customized weapons, hadn’t had him panting, but now he sure was. Loud wheezing breaths, some which ended in a short cough, clearing his throat.   
“Dyin’, old man?” Jamie grinned at the hand holding him tightening to a stinging clamp, fingers digging into his flesh. He could swear he felt his bones creak and cry. He wouldn’t mind a broken hip if this is what caused it.  
“Not before I kill you.”  
“Just curious, but what’s yer plan this- ah-” he groaned when he felt a hot and soft tip press against him, “t-time”  
“Don’t tempt me.”

Jamie let out a broken moan as the head finally breached him, all two inches of it. A deep and content rumbling hum vibrated, from chest to chest. Jamie shuddered, as he gravity slowly impaled him. He wanted to say something witty like, ‘It’ll take more than this to put m’ 5 feet under’, but he was too busy trying to keep the drool in his mouth and then his mouth closed. His tongue was getting dry from gasping. His chest heaved and he sputtered, impossible to make sense of his limbs or his emotions, but could only feel himself getting stretched open to a point he didn’t think his body could take. Mako was breathing through his nose, nostrils flared, his will to take it slow running hair thin. Jamie finally, finally, finally felt himself settle at the base, sweat drops stinging and blurring his vision, his cheeks felt wet but he couldn’t tell whether it was tears or more sweat. He felt Mako’s free hand gently run over his abdomen.

“No fuckin’ way,” Jamie pushed the hand aside to see his tight stomach bulging, a slight silhouette visible, “-No fuckin’ way”

Mako’s hand returned unfazed, rubbing himself through the usually taut and flat skin that now rose up in a curve that echoed what was underneath.   
A pleased, purring sigh in Jamie’s ear said, "You needed some extra meat there anyway," 

The T on 'meat' was stingingly sharp, enticing a soft moan from Jamie. 

The hand on his hip drilled him into the wall, impossible to move, and Mako thrust into him. Blissfully slow at first, and slow enough for Jamie to hyperfocus on the skin on his stomach stretching with each entrance. He panted out “fuck”’s with each pulse of Mako’s hips. He sped up, like a damn piston. His hands scrambled against the wall, scratching and peeling the wallpaper. Jamie feared that he might burst right through him. He registered the the bumps of the piercings rubbing against the tight ring of muscle, much less terrifying under the rubber of a condom. It simply felt "ribbed for his pleasure". Extra ribbed. Ribbed with studs and bars and metal. At least Mako was making noise now, grunting with each stroke.   
“You look so good,” He purred, his massive hand move from feeling his own cock stretching through a too thin torso, to grasp at Jamie. The blond in his hand banged his head back against the wall, keening in ecstasy. Jamie puffed out his name with each exhale, only making Mako speed up, sliding against his prostate. Jamie screamed when he came, felt like honest to God crying when it took more than a couple of thrusts for Mako to finish with a grunted breath of "Jamie" blown across his shoulder. A completely soiled and dirty part of Jamie’s brain hungered for a load to match the fuck on his face, but the rest of his brain blessed the inventor of the condom.

Mako carried both of them over to Jamie’s laughably small twin bed, tossing the scraggly man onto crumpled sheets. Jamie was out of commission, barely able to move one arm to rub at his sore hip. 

“Well, officer, ya might’a given me a hernia”  
“If you’re lucky”  
Mako tossed the tied rubber into a nearby cardboard box (Jamie’s tool box) for later discovery. The bed creaked dangerously when he sat down, but shut up when he laid next to Jamie. Mako wrapped a heavy arm around him and pulled him away from the bed’s edge.  
A passing thought told Jamie that they probably woke up his whole apartment with the screaming (Read: His screaming). He soon realized that he really didn't give a fuck.

Jamie suddenly remembered the small paper left by the phone the morning after they had met.  
“What th’ fuck was that drawing ya left,” mumbled, barely able to stay awake.   
Mako chuckled, “Blueberry pancakes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so, jamie was bedridden for days after, 5 kinds of soothing/anesthetic sprays on his asshole, sitting on a pool donut floatie.
> 
> hope u guys enjoyed! lemme know if theres anything else u want me to write! like any ideas or a sequel or somethin!  
> again twitter is @kophing_  
> tumblr is kophing
> 
> THAT PANCAKE REF WAS FOR YOU FIN


End file.
